Black Hole Sun
by HelloI'mMeg
Summary: An enigmatic assassin. A serial killer on the Citadel. Shadows that just won't die. Life as a C-Sec cop is never easy, especially not on Shalta Ward, one of the roughest neighborhoods on the station, but the drell Karliah Zaeran has more than enough to handle as her dark past threatens to catch up with her.
1. Glycerine

**black hole** SUN

* * *

CHAPTER **ONE - GLYCERINE**

" _we live in a wheel where everyone steals, and when we rise  
it's like strawberry fields."_

The holo-tape surrounded a huge portion of the south street on Shalta Ward, Block 71-52, the words "C-SEC CRIME SCENE" and "CAUTION" floating lazily by.

The drell Officer Karliah Zaeran carefully made her way to the front of the gathering crowd to where a pair of her fellow turian C-Sec officers stood guard. It was all they could do to reassure everyone that there was nothing to see there, and that they should move along.

"I just got the call, what we got?" she asked as she fell in line between them.

"808," the silver turian marked in angular blue lines replied simply.

"A _homicide_? Cyrus, you're joking!" Karliah cried.

The red-brown and golden-painted Sergeant Marius Rillian to her right shook his head. "A volus was shot right in front of his apartment building, the bullet barely grazed him, but it managed to puncture the suit and-"

"Boom." she shuddered. It didn't take much imagination to think about what happens when those high-pressure suits were damaged. "You know, I _do_ have a perfect memory, maybe if I could get a good look, I'd be useful to Investigation."

"Oh no, my good lady," Marius cried, his arm shooting out and stopping her before she got a glimpse. "'Tis not something you would wish to set thine eyes upon."

Karliah rolled her eyes. For some reason, Sargent Marius Rillian had gotten it into his head that all drell spoke in fancy, formal words. No matter how many times she'd explained that it was just how Drellish was translated and that she spoke Galactic, it didn't stop him from his over-the-top expressions.

"I know, Rookie, and I know what you're trying to do, but if the Investigators haven't gotten it into their heads what a lizard like you got, they're never gonna." Cyrus reassured.

She sighed and shook her head. "Did you see what happened?"

"Yeah, didn't wanna, though. It's gonna take a lot of ryncohol to get rid of _that_ image. There's a reason why no one's really sure what volus look like outside of their suits."

"That bad, huh?"

"Awful. Don't even try and look, I'm not gonna let that get into your perfect memory, got it, Rookie?"

"Rookie". Karliah had honestly hoped that after a year of service, the name wouldn't stick. But soon one year passed, then a second and a third. When became quickly apparent that the Shalta 7th wasn't getting anyone new anytime soon, she resigned to her fate and irritating nickname. Most of the turians meant well by it, although some used it as a means to remind her that without bleeding blue and dying for the cause, she would never be one of them.

"Well, it seems as if Investigation is wrapping up," Marius noted.

"Theyr're done _already_? They just got here!"

Cyrus laughed mirthlessly, "Maybe they got a perfect memory too."

* * *

Redacted. More than half of last night's report was either completely inconclusive or retracted. All that remained was the time the Investigators arrived at the scene and the volus' name, Cal Bolun.

Most frustrating, though, was that even ballistics was unable to ID the murder weapon, not that there was much left for them to examine. They weren't even able to read the coding off the bullet. By the language, Karliah was starting to believe the gun was made untraceable and no one was willing to admit it.

"Rookie? What are you reading?"

Marius always made a point to arrive late once he'd attained a rank where no one really cared. Unfortunately for either of them, he seemed right on time.

"She's reading last night's report," Cyrus replied for her with a grumble, "Didn't we tell you to leave it alone?"

Marius shrugged, "I see no harm in it. Anything interesting, my good lady?"

"Nothing."

"Figured it would be boring, it always is when Ryland-"

"No, I mean exactly that. Nothing. Look at this, Marius, it's practically blank!"

He stared blankly at the offered datapad, "Well. Would you look at that. What do you make of all of this?"

"Coverup," Karliah replied lowly.

"That… is not out of the question, honestly."

"I mean, think about it, there's no way they couldn't figure out where the gunshot even came from."

With a wave, a holo-map of Block 71-52 sprung to life from her desktop.

"I think you should keep your mouth shut before you catch hell from Lieutenant Irrian," Cyrus growled.

Marius ignored him. "But there were no witnesses."

"Exactly! So we can rule out the killer being on the streets, otherwise someone would have seen them. The bullet was also lodged into the street panel below instead of through to the other side and getting left in a wall."

"A shot from above. Very good, Rookie."

"It couldn't be Building 2, its roof isn't vacuum-sealed. Neither is 3's, or 8's for that matter. Morris was patrolling on 71-51, right on our border, he would have heard it if it came from these three."

With a touch, six of the eight buildings in the block grew dark, leaving two on either side of a corner.

"What is she doing?" Cyrus demanded.

"What no one else in this damn precinct seems to want to. Investigate."

"It has to be one of these two," Karliah announced, "But I think it's 5, 7 is too awkward of a shot."

"Good morning, Officer Zaeran," an unfamiliar, warbling turian voice announced.

Karliah barely glanced up at the dark-carapaced turian who had suddenly appeared next to her before noticing the badge and official uniform.

"Vice Executor Faustius, sir!" she cried, jumping from her chair and snapping to attention.

It was rare to even see even the head of the Ward, Captain Bell, visiting the smaller precincts, seeing a top-brass official was practically unheard of. Seeing the second-in-command, the Vice Executor in the flesh was the chance of a lifetime.

Cyrus, of course, had the forethought to close the map before standing himself with a salute. "Always a pleasure to see you, Vice Executor."

"At ease, officers. I've been taking a tour of the Citadel Wards as of late, and I've heard talk that our Zaeran was one of the best Enforcers that Shalta has to offer."

"You honor me, sir," she replied with a smile, "But I could never call myself that. In fact, many of the others here still call me 'Rookie'."

"On the contrary. I've heard talk that you have even developed your own tools and applications for your omni-tool."

"It's not- it's nothing that would interfere with my work, of course! Sir!" Karliah stammered, "I don't require any note-taking devices, drell like myself have perfect memories. Instead, I tried to better integrate this eyepiece and my omni-tool for added efficiency."

"May I take a look?"

More afraid of refusing him than actually willing to share these secrets, Karliah reluctantly drew the tool from her forearm and handed it over.

"This is impressive work, Officer, very impressive. Perhaps you should look into a Network department career."

"I've given it some thought. Sir."

"Now, I hope you don't mind me saying so, Officer Zaeran, but you are a very good Enforcer, top of your class if I'm not mistaken," Faustius said, depositing the omni-tool in her palm, "I should hope that your particular… talents wouldn't get in the way of your work, or that of Investigation's."

Karliah's heart jumped to her throat. How was she supposed to respond to that? She swallowed, realizing that the Vice Executor was indeed looking for a reply.

"Of course not, sir. My duty and my place is here with Enforcement, I serve Citadel Security and the people of Shalta Ward with my service."

"And I am glad to hear it. As you were, Officer." Faustius nodded coldly. "Oh, and Officer Gairaka, your cousin says hello."

Cyrus smiled politely, "I'm sure he does, sir. Thank you."

The turians waited until the Vice Executor had stalked out of earshot before turning their attention to her.

"What was _that_ all about?" Cyrus asked.

Only Marius noticed the way her shoulders shook or the way she wrapped her arms around her waist, the way she always did when she was pretending not to be upset.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" he asked, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

"He- he must have found out," Karliah stammered, "I applied for Investigation again. They- they didn't even let me take the test."

"Oh, wow," replied Cyrus. "I'm so sorry."

"You and me both, Gairaka."

* * *

Five names. Five faces staring back. Five kills.

With a flick, one of those faces faded from the holo screen, faded from the universe forever.

While they may have served their purpose long ago, that time had passed, and they were more a liability than anything, a group of children to beg for money, for power, for anything to keep their mouths shut.

And it was time to move up in the world.

Four more left. Four. And then Vakarian and all those bastards at C-Sec would pay.

* * *

 _A/N: So this story is two years in the making, I went through close to six revisions before I finally made it here, and I'm so glad it's finally finished! I hope you all enjoy the story to come, I'm planning on posting about once a week, so stay tuned!  
Also, don't forget to review! I love hearing from you guys and love talking with you all even more!_


	2. Scar Tissue

CHAPTER **TWO - SCAR TISSUE**

" _i'll make it to the moon  
if I have to crawl."_

* * *

 _her name was-_

 _a thousand tiny components gleamed and glinted on the work table under the weak red emergency lights._

 _the ship was running low on power again. they would have to stop for fuel soon. neither of them particularly liked these delays. they should be at the citadel by now._

 _steadily the girl worked at these pieces, her fingers a tempest as she fitted wire and pins and circuits. this, too, should be done by now, if it weren't for the constant distractions._

 _her name was-_

 _suddenly, the drell woman leapt from the shadows, tackling the girl to the ground. she liked surprises._

 _distractions._

 _one part game, the other preparation._

 _they tumbled and fought, half-hearted pins, pulled punches._

 _her bare shoulders icing against the cold floor, the girl would ask how many days._

 _three years, seven months, eight days._

 _then she would go after the girl in earnest and the true training would begin._

 _her name was Karliah._

 _Karliah_

Karliah

"KARLIAH."

She was suddenly wheeled out of the memory with a gasp, her panicking heart racing miles a minute.

Where was she? C-Sec. Morning roll call. She gave her silent thanks that Lt. Irrian had yet to appear.

Shaking, she pressed at a button on her earpiece, the ancient words reciting for her.

 _En tean'ness ga_

 _Perku shae et'fa_

 _Darkun lan gess ene_

 _Hansa tra'na_

 _Tae'lan'se es na._

These verses, written in a long-forgotten language, were sometimes the only thing that could bring her back to reality.

These days, however, it seemed as if her conditioning wore thinner and thinner, as fragile as the line between real and not.

* * *

"Alright, break it up!" Karliah called, pushing between a pair of subharmonically growling turians, their mandibles flaring.

When one, a cream-colored bareface, shoved the other, she gave him a good push against the alleyway wall, knocking him where he'd taken a bad hit.

 _Be quick_ the old mantra played in her mind. _Be clean_.

"What did I say? Now look at me," she ordered, "What am I?"

The turian rolled his eyes, "Some sorta freaky lizard bitch."

"I'm drell, and drell don't forget one damn thing, not ever. I'll remember your face, and if you make trouble for me again, you'll regret it. Got it?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"Get out of my sight."

Only when both turians had left did Karliah take a second for herself, rubbing at an eye that was slowly beginning to swell as she propped herself against the corner.

The Shalta arm was passing through a particularly thick cloud of the nebula tonight, the violet fog capturing the streetlight like the inside of a frosted-glass lantern. It was almost as blindingly bright as the perpetual day of the Presidium or the sunshine of a desert planet she once knew. Karliah half-considered whistling into the mist to see how the sound carried.

"Mrs. Drell Lady!" a tiny, warbling voice called out.

A turian boy with a silver, barefaced carapace raced down the sidewalk, his dark eyes seemed wide and terrified.

"You have to help! I think she's hurt!" he cried.

Sensing danger, Karliah broke into a jog, following him.

The small hanar lay on the grimy metal surface of the aerobus shelter bench, her tiny tentacles curled up tightly against her body which flashed wildly with fear colors.

"Sweet one?" Karliah calmly asked, dropping to a knee, "This one is a friend. Is this one hurt?"

The hanar trembled as it struggled to right itself. "I'm lost. There were bright lights, white, big cars. Then dark and the noise."

 _I?_ This hanar had to be very young, practically an infant, she had yet to understand her own people's choice of pronouns. It always confused and astounded the other species how quickly the hanar were able to pick up on speech, the culture and understanding always seemed to come later.

"Sweet one, this one is a friend of the hanar. This one can help you find your way back to your family." Karliah turned to the young turian, "Do you know what happened?"

He shook his head, "I just found her like this."

Gently, she scooped up the baby hanar and gave it a tight squeeze, its trembling shudders beginning to subside.

"I promise you're not in trouble, but they're gonna have to ask you a few questions at the station. Come with me?"

"If I have to."

"What's your name, by the way?" Karliah asked as they walked.

The small turian shook his head, "I'm not supposed to talk to C-Sec."

"You know they're going to ask you the same questions at the station. Up to you."

"It's Sidonis, okay?" he cried disdainfully, "Lantar Sidonis. I'm gonna turn 11 in a week, and I live down the street. Want anything else, princess?"

"Hey," she reached out and gave Sidonis a hard push against the building. She'd been doing a lot of shoving today. "No need to be like that. You did the right thing by calling me over, but don't mess it up by being an ass about it."

For all his attitude, Karliah felt no remorse turning the kid over to a pair of desk officers and telling them she got no answers out of him.

Unfortunately, this also confined her to desk duty herself; the sergeant leading the turian boy away shrugged, figuring she had more than enough paperwork to take care of, and he was right.

But being a patrolman meant she didn't have a desk of her own, instead she found herself at Haewall Zuzena's desk, staring at a rubik's cube - salarians were fascinated with these - and a constellation of photos taped to the holo-screen. A pair of identical blue-skinned girls and their mother grinned, a cerulean trio of joy. Even without her perfect memory, Karliah was sure she would remember Alkaid and Adalee, the twins, considering how much Hae mentioned them.

Three case reports later, the sergeant returned with a hesitant rap on the cubicle wall to try and get her attention.

"Yes?" she asked, silencing the continuous drone of her earpiece.

"We've got a transport for the Presidium ready, you're taking the hanar in to the Embassy."

She willed herself not to leap out of her seat in surprise and shock. The Embassy? The _Hanar_ Embassy? No, no this could _not_ be happening.

"Why?" she asked, her voice fighting to remain calm, "Shouldn't some official brass be on it?"

He shrugged, "You're the only one who's dealt with these jellyfish. Irrian's orders."

Damn that Lieutenant.

"Alright, alright. I'll get on it."

With a sigh, she yawned, stretched, and let off a long sigh before making her way to the lobby. The baby hanar was curled up on one of the molded plastic seats, a ratty blanket- undoubtedly from the trunk of an old patrol car- tossed over its shoulders.

"Come, young one," Karliah ordered, and gratefully, it followed.

Silence fell on the trip to the Presidium, Karliah was in no mood to talk, she couldn't talk. Instead, she stuck a thumb to the central button of her earpiece, turning on the sound once again.

"This one's face name is Sylvi!" the little hanar chirped.

The drell rolled her eyes, "That's nice," she replied, turning up the volume, not caring if it heard.

Finally, they found parking and not too far from the Embassy either. They were welcomed in warmly, as warmly as their species could manage under the surface of politeness and ritual decorum. Even without the ultra-violet sight some drell attained, it was clear that both parents were worried, worried and grateful to have their child back safely. Karliah merely bowed and told them it was her duty and nothing more.

"So knowledgeable of our ways, so polite, there is no way this one was not Compact-trained, if it is correct."

Karliah's breath caught in her throat. It could be all over, right now. "This one is not wrong, it is indeed from the Compact, from long, long ago."

"Such an accent!" the second hanar added, "The drell do not speak this way on Kahje."

She bowed again, "May the knowledge please you that it was brought up on Rakhana before travelling to Kahje to be trained."

"Allow it to thank this one, will you not stay for dinner and a cup of tea?" the first asked, its bioluminescence glowing cheerily.

Karliah wondered if her stomach would start growling comically at that very second. She _was_ hungry, but something else paralyzed her, prevented her answer.

"Is this one alright?"

"My- my apologies," she stammered, "But it is still on duty, unfortunately."

"Of course, this one understands. Its thanks go with you, drell."

"And this one is humbled to be in its service."


	3. Interstate Love Song

CHAPTER **THREE - INTERSTATE LOVE SONG**

" _breathing  
is the hardest thing to do"_

* * *

Going in for her monthly testing was always such an irritating chore.

 _Irritating, but necessary_ , Karliah reminded herself for the thousandth time.

Kepral's Syndrome was not a disease to be taken lightly, and even far from Kahje's damp reaches, any humidity could pose a problem.

Thankfully, the doctor's diagnostic device rang out the all-clear as she buttoned up her shirt.

 _Safe for another month._

Huerta Memorial was a bustling city of a hospital, where the best and brightest doctors and nurses from across the galaxy cut their eyeteeth treating the worst of the Citadel's emergencies. It was also the only place where anyone knew how to treat a drell, although considering there were only about a hundred populating the Citadel, this was no surprise.

Still, there were much better things she could be doing with her afternoon off, and Karliah didn't care who knew as she charged out of the hospital and out into Presidium.

Kepral's Syndrome. It would take her someday. But not today.

Unlike the chilly Wards, the Presidium was always blissfully warm. Any day that Karliah could make this journey to the cozy summers was bound to be a good.

After shopping for levo-amino food she simply couldn't find on Shalta and briefly considering replacing her worn red leather jacket, she took the time to relax at the Commons under the unreal azure skies.

It was even in her luck that the hanar embassies managed to have her favorite Kahjean tea put in the café. Steaming mug in hand, watching the galaxy stream by, it almost made up for her miserable morning or even more distressing week.

That's when she heard it, almost imperceptible over the soft cacophony of people.

A strangely familiar sound like- like-

"Suppressed gunfire…!" Karliah whispered to herself.

Below, in the Commons, an asari collapsed.

Someone screamed.

But Officer Zaeran was all action, her training replacing any panic, any fear.

 _Be quick_ , she reminded herself of the old mantra, vaulting over the railing instead of bothering with the crowded stairs.

 _Be clean_ , she raced through the spaces between shocked and terrified people.

 _Be prepared_ , she'd already pressed the emergency call button on her earpiece by the time she'd made it to the asari, putting pressure on the wound cradled in the palm of her hand.

The bullet only just missed a direct hit, instead lodging itself at the left side of her skull, leaving her alive but only just. The killer was in a hurry.

"You're going to be just fine, ma'am," Karliah heard herself say, "I am a C-Sec officer."

Not having time to fish out her badge, she hoped the "Voice of Authority" act would be enough.

"C… Sec?" the asari moaned.

"Try not to move. What is your name?" No answer. "Where do you live? What Ward do you come from? Do you work on the Presidium?" Blue eyes began to roll backwards. "What. Is. Your. _Name_?"

But with a shudder, the asari was gone.

It wasn't a full minute before the medical transport aero touched down, a contingent of white-robed salarians and an elcor rushing out like a host of restless moths.

By that time, Karliah rose, badge in shaking hand.

" _Respectful inquiry_ ," the elcor began, "You are a C-Sec officer?"

"I am Officer 1893210-423106 Delta, Karliah Zaeran Patrolman Officer of the Shalta 7th."

" _With regret_ , you tried to save her, didn't you?"

"I tried my best," then added to herself, "But my best wasn't good enough."

"Officer Zaeran?" a turian in C-Sec blues called out, "Please, come with me. The executor would like to see you now."

* * *

For whatever reason, Karliah expected the Executor's office to be pristine, untouchable, like how most other turians kept things. Here, the walls and floors might have been the same glistening white as the rest of the Presidium, she was not prepared for the sheer amount of clutter. The Executor's messy desk alone was piled high with paperwork, datapads and a _Blasto the Hanar Spectre_ bobblehead doll.

In one of the two orange leather seats in front of the desk was a silver-carapaced teenaged turian, unmistakably the executor's son, eagerly tapping commands at an omni-tool game.

"Haha, _yeah!_ Scratch one!" he cried victoriously, "'Lana keeps saying I'm cheating, but she's just mad that I'm winning."

"Well? Are you?" the executor asked, not looking away from his own screen.

The young turian shrugged, "Rules are stupid."

Staying by the door, Karliah gave a soft _ahem_ , announcing her presence before saying, "Sir? You called for me?"

"Ahh! You must be Officer Zaeran from Shalta Ward," the Executor replied, his mandibles twitching in a polite turian smile.

"Yes, sir," she nodded.

"Garrus?" Vakarian said, turning to his son.

"Is this about Dacia S'indero getting shot?"

" _Garrus_."

Garrus sighed and snapped his omni-tool off. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he grumbled, stomping off.

"Teenagers," Vakarian sighed, rolling his sharp blue eyes. "But anyways. Onto business. Are you alright, Officer Zaeran?"

Karliah shrugged, "I suppose so," she lied, grateful that her trembling hands could stay folded behind her back.

"Reports here say that you were a key witness to the murder of an asari not more than half an hour ago at the Commons," he noted aloud, scanning the datapad on his desk.

"I was, sir," she replied falling into the proper posture, back straight, feet shoulders-width apart.

And then, she delved into the memory, a full report of the faint gunshot, the scream, jumping over the railing, how Karliah tried to save the asari, pressing the heel of her hand against the gushing wound, ignoring the sick, warm blue pooling between her fingers.

Vakarian nodded solemnly, not in the least unnerved, "Did you see anyone suspicious leave the scene?"

Karliah shook her head, throwing herself back in, " _Only bystanders remained, angle suggests shot from above, check all possible positions I can see, no sign of anyone._ "

"And you were also a witness to the volus murder in your patrol district on Shalta Ward?"

She took a hard, deep breath, suddenly feeling very tired and very old. The memories always did this to her when she was made to play them back like this, and even as she responded, it was a struggle to not recite in reverie once again.

"Not in truth, sir," she replied breathlessly, hanging on to the air in her lungs, "Sergeant Marius Rillian and Officer Cyrus Gairaka, along with myself, were standing guard at the scene, long after the homicide occurred. I didn't get a close look, either, I offered my eidetic memory to capture the scene but they both said it would be better if I didn't."

"I see." Vakarian gently placed the datapad down on a stack of papers, giving her the full, undivided gaze of his sharp, blue eyes, "Officer Zaeran, you have done your duty honorably. It's the hardworking people like yourself that keeps the Citadel a safe place to live and work. After today's events, if you'd like to take the rest of the day off, I'll send a message to your precinct Lieutenant."

It was a speech, and a disturbingly well-rehearsed one at that. Nonetheless, Karliah gave a respectful bow.

"With all due respect, sir, that won't be necessary. If my people do not become accustomed to the shocking memories that remain within our minds, we certainly would not have made it thus far."

Vakarian eyed her strangely, as if unsure if that was a lie, studying for cracks in her serious expression.

Finally, he nodded, "I see. Dismissed, Officer."

* * *

As she made her way down the hallway, someone called out from the next office over.

"Officer Zaeran? A word, please."

Unlike the Executor's office, his second-in-command kept things neat and orderly, the pinnacle of perfection. Each stack of papers was stacked ever-so-precisely and aligned perfectly on the desk, not even chairs for meetings were left to clutter the room.

"Yes, Vice Executor? What can I do for you?" Karliah asked, falling again into her stance.

Faustius leaned forward, chin resting on his hands, studying her. "I should hope that you haven't forgotten our conversation not a few days ago. About knowing one's place? And letting the Investigators do their job?"

"Of course, sir. I'm drell, I wouldn't forget."

"Yes, I should think so. You are a good Enforcer, Zaeran, from the vids it seemed as if you did everything you could for that poor asari. I can assure we've got our best working hard on bringing down her killer."

"Yes, sir," she replied solemnly.

"Dismissed."

* * *

"So, you like to break the rules, huh?"

"Huh- what-?" Garrus startled, only just then noticing the drell leaning over his shoulder. "You're the officer who was talking to Dad. What do you want?"

"I need some information, stuff that maybe only you've heard, off the record, you know?"

"What's in it for me?"

Karliah rolled her eyes internally. Of course it would be like this. Were all turian kids a pain in the ass? "I'll make you a deal, if I beat you at that game, you tell me what I want to know, and I'll tell you as much as I can. If you win, I'll leave you alone. Deal?"

"Fine, but I hope you know that I'm the best."

"We'll see about that, kid."

The game he'd picked was a capture-the-flag style of shooter, she would have to run into his base, grab the artifact and bring it back to her base. His job was to stop her.

 _Be quick_ , she reminded herself as the game loaded up, _be clean._

She first attempted to run around to the back of the base, try and catch Garrus by surprise, but he noticed her immediately, shooting her down instantly.

 _Be prepared_.

Her second attempt was something of a bull-rush, but her defenses were thin, she couldn't get to cover soon enough. Two more tries left.

 _Be aware_.

It was no secret that melee attacks were more powerful than bullets, but getting close enough to take him down was suicide, as a few shots to the face reminded her.

 _Be efficient._

One more life to go and desperate times were starting to call for desperate measures.

: set invs

: move loc x42 y05

: get artif

: move loc x03 y05

 _taelen'se es na_

" _WHAT?_ How did you do that?"

"I won, Garrus. Now you need to tell me what I need to know."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me."

"Let's start with Dacia S'indero. You seemed to know her."

The young turian rolled his eyes, "Yeah, she was the head assistant to Tertillio Simlus, the Captain of the Presidium. We saw her all the time."

"She was C-Sec?"

"Sort of."

"And did you know Cal Bolun?"

"Heard of him. I think he was head of Finances."

"Huh. Good to know," she remarked, tapping out a message to Gairaka and Marius, " _VICS WERE C-SEC._ "

"Well, Garrus," Karliah said standing, "You were most helpful, kid. Thanks."

"Wait, hang on! You said you'd tell me what I want to know. Why are you asking all this stuff?"

"Because," Karliah shrugged, "The Shadow Broker's too expensive?"

"No, _really_."

She looked left and right to make sure no one was listening too closely before replying lowly, "Because it seems to me that no one else is looking into this case. The first murder was on my turf, and none of the Investigators are on it. The second was not even an hour ago, and how many did you see scrambling for evidence? Vice-Executor Faustius even told me to keep quiet and my head down. This is a coverup, and it happens all the time. But I'm not gonna let this one go."

"So you're going against policy and breaking all kinds of regulations… but you're helping people?"

"I guess so. Are you gonna tell your dad?"

"I don't think so, I think what you're doing is right."

Karliah smirked, "Good to hear. By the way, I know you had mods up during our match, thought I'd fight fire with fire. So now you know what it feels like to lose to a cheater. Be nice to your sister, you're lucky to have her."

* * *

Four hours.

Only four hours until the evening shift, and Karliah planned on spending it the best way she knew how- with a nap.

Without really looking, she shoved her keycard into the door, stumbled inside and flopped unceremoniously onto the bed.

That's when she heard a low and raspy voice.

"The hanar are very displeased with you."

* * *

 _A/N: Archangel Begins, eh? And a cliffhanger, dun dun DUNNNN. Leave a review!_


	4. Tonight, Tonight

CHAPTER **FOUR - TONIGHT, TONIGHT**

" _we will never be the same,_

 _the more you change the less you feel"_

* * *

"The hanar are very displeased with you," the voice said, low and raspy.

 _Drell_ , she thought. No doubt about that. _Very early stages of Kepral's, too._

Karliah rose to her knees, but didn't turn to face him, "I think you should leave."

"I come here with a message," he continued, ignoring her warning, "And if you do not heed this message, I will come for you again. Do you know who I am?"

"No, and I don't care," she growled, leaping instantly to her feet.

The drell standing in her apartment was green and magenta-fringed, his dark eyes shiftily scanning the surroundings, betraying his posture, which was utterly still.

"I am the one person in this galaxy who truly knows who you are. I know you are here at the Citadel and working for C-Sec under a falsified name. And I know you had left the Primacy and the Compact without leave or permission."

He began to pace in quick, clipped steps as if practiced, as if programmed, "I am an assassin, and I am here with a message. Your leave of absence has been noted and will not be tolerated. You have five days to return to the home you belong to. If you do not book passage for Kahje by then, a full dossier, including your true name and... service record will find its way onto Executor Vakarian's desk and I will return for you."

As he talked, she slowly edged towards the nightstand, her hands she kept folded behind her back silently sliding open the drawer and extracting the emergency non-service pistol she kept there.

"That's not going to happen," she replied coldly, raising the weapon and falling easily into a C-Sec shooting stance.

A ghost of a smirk twitched on the drell's lips. "I suppose we shall see."

Karliah fired only the once, but the bullet missed its mark as he kicked the weapon from her hand.

Using the momentum of the kick, she spun, aiming the weighty punch at his temple. However, she was all too easily blocked and countered with a blow at her exposed side, or at least an attempt to land one.

Kick and punch were blocked, countered, replied.

 _Be quick_ , a flurry of punches, a sweep with the leg, a high kick, all fractions of a second apart like the rhythm of the most dangerous music.

 _Be clean_ , he ducked beneath a swing, only to block the follow-up with lightning speed. There was no time for her to get sloppy, she was facing something of a master.

"Ahh, so you have not forgotten your training," the drell said calmly.

 _Be prepared._

"I don't know what you're talking about!" she spat between gasps.

 _Be aware._

He, of course, was unfazed.

"You fight coldly, efficiently, without remorse, in a way C-Sec couldn't have possibly taught you. Has no one else truly noticed? Or is your precious police force so concerned for their own politicking that they don't see their own officers?"

"How _dare_ you?" she shouted, "How _dare_ you insult C-Sec! They are my family, more than the Compact ever was. I was taken from my home, my parents, at the age of _ten years old_. And I'm just supposed to go back to that?"

"Your complacency is an insult to our people. We owe our lives to the hanar," he growled.

"Which was a hundred years ago! Haven't we repaid our debt by now? Haven't we given enough? I will not live my life for someone else."

She was breathing hard, a trickle of dark blood escaping the corner of her mouth. He was putting up one hell of a fight, the only challenge she'd had in a long time.

In fact, he reminded her of someone.

 _He'd already given himself over to the Compact, battle-sleep heavy in his eyes. He punches, she dodges, she kicks, he evades. Like a dance, where a misstep is pain. He was fast, faster than anyone else she'd ever fought. She'd have to be faster. She, the soldier, he the assassin. He doesn't allow her a moment's rest, coming after her again-_

Karliah cried out in pain, thrown to her knees.

"I know... who you are..." she growled and gasped, clutching her throbbing temple and hooking her long fingers into the carpet, "You're Thane Krios. I remember you."

"And I you, Akemi Zhaira."

She had to admit, it was satisfying to hear him finally out of breath after fighting her off so easily.

Karliah snickered wryly, "'Akemi Zhaira'. It's been a long time since someone called me that."

Her name, her true name and not some falsified identity spilled from her lips for the first time in years.

"Heed my warning, Akemi Zhaira. Return to the Primacy in one week or I will come for you again. By then, a handful of bruises will be the least of your worries."

Steeling herself against undoubtedly more pain and a fight she was little prepared for, Karliah sprung back to her feet, crouching into another stance, fists at the ready.

But as soon as she looked up, he was gone.

* * *

"Karliah...?"

The lights snapped on in the med room. She was caught red-handed.

"Marius," she regarded him before resuming her mission.

Rummaging around in the wide drawer, she finally found the single pack of drell medigel at the very bottom. It expired a year and a half ago, she noted, but beggars can't be choosers.

"Are you... okay?"

"I got into a fight," she replied simply. She tried to pull open the pack with her fingers, then resorting to tear at it with her teeth, despite her aching jaw. "What are you doing here? You're not on B-shift."

"I took extra-duty, they want more turians on B after the killing. Makes the volus feel safe. Now _sit_ ," he ordered, snatching the packet from her hands.

She obeyed, sliding up onto the stainless steel table with a sigh.

Steel was a strange substance, an invention by this odd new people, the humans. Stronger than copper or aluminum, hardier and better at dealing with heat than pure iron, the method of refining the metal proved invaluable to the galactic community. She ran her fingertips along the table's smooth surface, examining the thin scratches instead of Rillian's hard, avian eyes.

"Description?" he asked, all business as he dabbed the gel at the bluish bruise blossoming around her right eye as gently as he could manage.

Briefly, she considered lying. She could say it was a krogan with a grudge or a tweaked-out asari with a mean right hook. But If Krios was after what she thought he was, if he was their killer-

"Drell," she admitted, "Male. Green."

"Like you?"

"More of a leafy green, less yellow than me. Magenta fringe and frills. Name is Thane Krios. Tall, muscular build, wears a long, black coat and a Mantel brand combat vest."

"Another drell on Shalta Ward? I thought one was bad enough," he teased, tending to her swollen knuckles.

Suddenly, keeping a hold of her memory became very, _very_ difficult. Karliah gulped and gripped the edge of the table with her free hand, the metal digging into her fingers. If she wasn't careful, the words would spill out of her- _your complacency is an insult to our people haven't we given enough?_ -if she wasn't careful, everything would be over here and now.

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she answered, sharply letting out a breath with a gasp, "Just stings." Karliah took one look at the security camera in the corner, noting its position before leaning in close so she could whisper, "I think he may be our killer."

" _What_?"

"I knew him a long, long time ago. He's an assassin, the best of the best, it can't be a coincidence that he's showing up here and now."

"Are you sure?"

She shook her head before realizing he couldn't see it, "No, I'm really not. We'd have to look into it, maybe see what records we can get into. But having an assassin of that caliber on the Citadel can't be nothing."

He nodded solemnly, "Hang on, I need to get under your eyepiece."

"Wait- don't-!" she cried, but it was too late, he'd already gently slid it from her ear, the inconspicuous sound chanting loudly for all to hear.

" _En tean'ness ga_

 _Perku shae et'fa_

 _Darkun lan gess ene_

 _Hansa tra'na_

 _Tae'lan'se es na._ "

"Rookie, what…?" he held it up to his own ear, recognizing the foreign words immediately. "Is this what I think it is?"

"I've been having some troubles with- with the memories recently. Listening to it helps."

"What does it even mean?"

"It's from an ancient poem, all drell are conditioned to wake from our thoughts when we hear it. With our perfect memories, sometimes it's difficult not to get… lost."

"And you say you've been having problems with that? Getting lost?" he asked, smoothing the gel over her swollen brow.

"Please don't tell anyone. I know it's not great for a C-Sec officer to be distracted like this, but I swear, I have it under control."

"This," Marius said, waving the eyepiece in his hand, "Is not 'under control'. This is a crutch and you know it. I won't tell anyone, but you have to promise me you'll get help. There's got to be someone you can talk to, someone you can work it out with."

"I don't know," she replied honestly.

"Then take my advice, Rookie?" Marius began, clapping a hand to her throbbing shoulder, "At least ask for the night off. You're in no condition to patrol and we have plenty of extra-duties on tonight and if you haven't noticed, things have gotten very... _punchy_ around here recently."

 _You don't even know the half of it,_ she thought to herself. "You really so? It's not some 'dishonor' or 'unbalance the spirit of the precinct'?" she joked.

He snickered, "The 'spirits' have been 'out of balance' since Officer Caro tried to conduct a séance for his dead house plant and got forcibly put on mental leave. And besides, you don't belong to the Hierarchy, the dishonor's on us, not you."

Karliah sighed, "I guess I'd better get to that report. Thank you, by the way."

"For what?"

"Helping me out? Not asking me too many questions? Looking out for me? Whatever I'm supposed to be grateful for?"

"Ahh, gratitude. Such an odd concept. Asari will fall over themselves to thank one another, Salarians find it utterly foreign and drell..."

She quirked a brow, daring him to finish that thought.

"Drell will remember it forever and _love_ to keep bringing it up."

She smiled and fell in with the memory, " _The krogan staggers and stumbles but soon finds its balance again. What Rillian doesn't see is him reaching for the shotgun. My pistol, however, is already out. I fire, twice at the krogan's knees, knocking his leg out from under him. He topples, finally at last._

 _"Thanks for the save, Rookie"_."

* * *

Wiping the dust of disuse from its surface, Karliah activated the holo-screen wall and brought up a basic organization program.

Many Investigators kept boards like this, she'd even seen a few officers mapping out cases in her own precinct. Might as well start one for herself, even if it just kept the ideas there and out of her head when she was out on patrol.

With a flick, she moved the dossier from omni-tool to screen, one Sere Thane Krios, along with links to public records and list of known aliases.

"Alright," she called out to the search engine, "I need records of any drell that passed through customs in the past two months."

That should cover it. Considering the volus' murder was only a week ago, if Thane had come to the Citadel before then, he was certainly a suspect.

However, just as the search was about to complete, the screen flashed a jarring red. ACCESS DENIED.

Apparently, the ID of a C-Sec Officer didn't allow her into the records.

Karliah sighed, instead adding a note beside Thane Krios' picture, "Dig deeper if things get bad," and in all caps, "MAY BE KILLER."

* * *

 _A/N: This was my favorite chapter to write - and one of the longest, I believe! I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I - leave a review and let me know!_


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